Waking up the daisies
From their morning doze,
Ringing up the lily-bells,
Knocking up the rose.

Little yellow Sunbeam,
Climbing up the wall,
On the baby's window
Happened for to fall;

In the little chamber

As she took a peep, There she saw the Lovely One Lying fast asleep.

Little yellow Sunbeam
Tripped into the room,
Sweeping out the darkness
With her golden broom.
All the little shadows,
Glimmering and gray,

Gathered up their dusky skirts,
Softly slid away.

Little yellow Sunbeam,
Flitting to the bed,

Merrily went dancing

Round the baby's head. Suddenly there flashed out,

To her great surprise,

Other little sunbeams

From the baby's eyes.

Little yellow Sunbeam

Said, "How can this be?

Whence these little sparklers
So unlike to me?

Scarce I think they can be
Sunbeams real and true,
For we all are yellow;
These are lovely blue."

Little yellow Sunbeam

Flew back to the sky,
Running to her father,
She began to cry:
"Father, you must vanish!

Run and hide your head!

There's a brighter sun than you

In the baby's bed."

-In My Nursery - Laura E. Richards.

THE FOUR SUNBEAMS.

OUR little sunbeams came earthward one day,

FOUR

Shining and dancing along on their way,

Resolved that their course should be blest.

66

"Let us try," they all whispered, some kindness to do, Not seek our own pleasuring all the day through,

Then meet in the eve at the west."

One sunbeam ran in at a low cottage door,

And played "hide-and-seek" with a child on the floor, Till baby laughed loud in his glee,

And chased with delight his strange playmate so bright, The little hands grasping in vain for the light

That ever before them would flee.

One crept to the couch where an invalid lay,
And brought him a dream of the sweet summer day,

Its bird-song and beauty and bloom;
Till pain was forgotten and weary unrest,

And in fancy he roamed through the scenes he loved best, Far away from the dim, darkened room.

One stole to the heart of a flower that was sad,
And loved and caressed her until she was glad,
And lifted her white face again;

For love brings content to the lowliest lot,
And finds something sweet in the dreariest spot,
And lightens all labor and pain.

And one, where a little blind girl sat alone
Not sharing the mirth of her playfellows, shone
On hands that were folded and pale,

And kissed the poor eyes that had never known sight,
That never would gaze on the beautiful light

Till angels had lifted the veil.

At last, when the shadows of evening were falling,
And the sun, their great father, his children was calling,
Four sunbeams sped into the west.

All said, "We have found that in seeking the pleasure
Of others, we fill to the full our own measure,"

Then softly they sank to their rest.

— M. K. B.

LITTLE NANNIE.

AWN-FOOTED Nannie,
Where have you been?

FAWN-FO

"Chasing the sunbeams Into the glen;

Plunging through silver lakes

After the moon ; Tracking o'er meadows The footsteps of June."

Sunny-eyed Nannie, What did you see? "Saw the fays sewing

Green leaves on a tree; Saw the waves counting The eyes of the stars: Saw cloud-lambs sleeping By sunset's red bars."

Listening Nannie,

What did you hear? "Heard the rain asking

A rose to appear;

Heard the woods tell

When the wind whistled wrong;

Heard the stream flow

Where the bird drinks his song."

Nannie, dear Nannie,

Oh, take me with you,

To run and to listen,

And see as you do!

Nay, nay! you must borrow
My ear and my eye,

Or the beauty will vanish,

The music will die."

· Lucy Larcom.

A SUMMER DAY.

HIS is the way the morning dawns:

THIS

Rosy tints on flowers and trees,

Winds that wake the birds and bees, Dew-drops on the flowers and lawns This is the way the morning dawns.

This is the way the sun comes up:
Gold on brooks and grass and leaves,
Mist that melts above the sheaves.

Vine and rose and buttercup –

This is the way the sun comes up.

This is the way the rain comes down :
Tinkle, tinkle, drop by drop,

Over roof and chimney-top;

Boughs that bend, and clouds that frown --

This is the way the rain comes down.

This is the way the river flows:

Here a whirl, and there a dance,

Slowly now, then, like a lance,

Swiftly to the sea it goes-
This is the way the river flows.